Caught
by Jesserfly
Summary: Captain George Stacy is a good cop. But cops have needs too, and Spider-Man's more than willing to fill them in exchange for a get out of jail free card. TASM-movieverse. George Stacy/Spider-Man.


"Fuck, yeeees," drawled George Stacy, fingers looking for hair to bury themselves in. Unfortunately, he assumed that any hair he could possibly grab at was hidden under the mask, so he was stuck scrabbling his fingers at the top of the head of the vigilante who called himself Spider-Man. The mask had been pulled up just far enough to reveal a pretty pair of lips, succulent and pink, and a tongue that made him wish he was twenty- no- thirty years younger. God knew he didn't have the same stamina now as he used to back then. Oh, but back in the day, he would have wrecked this boy. George would have had this kid bent over, begging for it, gagging for it.

However, with his age came power, and he had to admit that it was good having a position in charge, being the captain of the police. Actually, that was how he ended up in this situation. See, he and Spider-Man had this unspoken deal of sorts. If he caught the vigilante, Spider-Man would perform a few "services" in exchange for the captain accidentally freeing him. So yeah, Captain Stacy had to admit that this was a pretty favorable situation.

He drew in a deep breath and released a pleasured groan when Spider-Man's tongue rolled over the head of his cock, lapping at it and tracing every inch he could reach. The sounds coming from the kid's mouth only served to make him harder, almost painfully so. With those wet clicks of his tongue and zealous slurps, Captain Stacy didn't know why the kid bothered speaking at all; he could join the force and take down crime with that sinfully sexy voice of his alone. Yes, the captain was content as he watched his cock slide in and out of Spider-Man's mouth, listening happily to the sounds vibrating around him.

"You moan like a whore. Fucking shameless." George stroked the top of the vigilante's head encouragingly, hips rolling closer as he fucked his mouth relentlessly. He pushed in until that pretty little mouth was stuffed full of his cock, watching the saliva and pre-cum dribble down around the corners of his mouth. It was then that Captain Stacy realized how close he was, the sounds and sensations so close to pushing him over the edge, but, god help him, he didn't want it to end just yet.

Captain Stacy panted heavily and grabbed the smaller man, pushing him on the ground and onto his stomach. Dick hanging out of his pants, he gave it a rough jerk before climbing on top of him, grinding against the spandex-clad ass of the so-called superhero. With a gravelly, lust-filled voice, the captain grunted into the side of the other's head where his ear would be, "Some hero. You're just a run-of-the-mill slut, hungry for cock. Hardly better than the hookers in the filthy parts of New York." Oh, but Spider-Man just keened, rutting back against him like some fucking sex-starved teenager, lost without a hard body held against him. The kid just writhed beneath him, pressed carelessly between the dirty alley ground and his own much larger and stronger body, unintelligible and wanton noises spilling from his lips. Oh god, his cock was throbbing, aching for release.

The captain's hands squeezed Spider-Man's hips and he ground harder against him, feeling the heat build up between their bodies. George's face pressed forward into his neck, buried in the expanse of skin that was usually inaccessible because of that goddamned mask the vigilante insisted on wearing. He breathed in, the smell of sweat and sex heavy on the boy, before he clamped his teeth down on the unmarked skin. George was rewarded with a weak whine and an upward roll of a very firm ass against his very hard cock.

Pleasure coiled tight within him and he knew the end was near. It was the kid going back and forth between obscene mutters and breathy moans that finally got Captain Stacy off. He rode along the crashing waves of his orgasm, feeling more amazing than he could ever remember, painting the brightly colored spandex suit with his cum. The body beneath him tensed and made a blissful sound, alerting the captain that he, too, had finished.

When George was done, he pulled himself off the vigilante and leaned against the wall of the alley, trying to catch his breath. Spider-Man rolled over onto his back, lips parted invitingly as he did the same; the captain tried not to watch, but damn him, Spider-Man was so wonderfully submissive at times like those, without any of that usual annoying snark that reminded the captain almost too much of himself. It was when he gave that lithe body a look over that George noticed the wet patch staining the front of Spider-Man's suit and his ego swelled because he realized he'd managed to get the kid off just by rubbing against him.

Moments later, after Captain Stacy and Spider-Man managed to pull themselves together, ready to go their separate ways, the captain told him, "Next time you won't get off so easy." They both knew it was a lie, no matter which way the vigilante was supposed to take it.

With a scoff, Spider-Man swung away, leaving the captain with a few parting words. "Don't worry. There won't be a next time." Another lie. If Captain Stacy had any less pride, he'd start to think that Spider-Man was intentionally getting caught.


End file.
